


You Don't Control Me

by XxWolfRocksxX



Category: Minecraft - Fandom, Youtubers
Genre: Abuse, Death, M/M, Makeouts, Munchingbrotato - Freeform, Yaoi, shippings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxWolfRocksxX/pseuds/XxWolfRocksxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitchell Hughes, an abused man who just wanted to find love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Control Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, Wolf here! This is a story off of my dA XxWolfRocksxX of my OTP, MunchingCanadian! I am the creator of this ship, I think I made it back last year or so. Oh well XD enjoy reading, I hope you all like it!

I stuck around because I love you. Even though you hit me, used your claws to cut into my skin, cursed at me as you blamed me for everything, even for the most silliest of things. You tell me what I can and cannot wear, you tell me who I can't and can hang out with, and if I don't follow your rules I get beaten, kicked, punched, slapped, clawed, sometimes even bitten. Sometimes you'll use my body for your own pleasurable needs, while I'm stuck screaming in pain and begging for you to stop. Even though you hurt me and make me feel like crap after you're done, I still love you.

I loved you. 

Then he came, his brown eyes gleaming with kindness as the black glasses on his nose gleamed in the sunlight. He made me smile, and laugh so hard that my sides would hurt. But you didn't like me around him, you didn't like it at all. But I loved being around, so I kept hanging out with him, even if it was against your 'wishes.' One day we would playing a mini-game, when I tripped and fell on one of the bruises you had given me last night for my punishment. I had yelped, and had stopped and ran over to me to see if I was alright. That's when he found out about my scratches, bruises, and scars, some put on my body by you and some put on myself. He found out about the real side of you, and just how controlling you could be. took me to his place and nursed my wounds, allowing me to the stay the night.

He didn't let me leave, he didn't want me to leave. I didn't either, so I stayed. You didn't know where he lived, so just as long as I didn't go outside and let you see me I would be fine. I had to be almost thirty fives miles away from you, because his house is out in the country, a beautiful Victorian style with a ranch on the twelve acre property. I cooked breakfast every morning, lunch for me and him if he was home, which was almost every day, and dinner. I guess you could say it was my way of thanking him.

As the days grow shorter, and the nights grow longer, I feel cold and alone in my large guest bed. Him and I were quite close by then, so I wasn't very much afraid of getting up and running down the hall to his large room. I was shivering the entire way, glancing at the window to see snow falling down to the ground, faster then I had ever seen. I would knock on his door, and pray to god it wouldn't take him long to answer it or invite me inside. The first time he stood and opened the door, rubbing his eye after putting on his glances. "Mitch? What's the matter?" He asks. "I-It's cold..." I whispered, looking down as I waited for him to turn away.

Instead he had just smiled softly, taking my hand and pulling me into his bedroom. He laid me down on his bed, getting in after me and pulling me into his chest. I closed my eyes and snuggled into him, and under a matter of minutes I was warm and asleep.

So every night I would go to his room when it got to cold, and every night he brought me in. One day, he texted me and told me he would be late getting home, and I was cold when I laid down in bed. So, I went ahead and when to his room, and laid down. I was scared of what he would think if he saw me, and my heart thumped when I heard him come into the room an hour later. I heard him pause, then he chuckled before he laid down next to me, putting his arms around me and holding me close as he softly kissed the back of my shoulder. I opened my eyes slightly, snuggling into him as his warmth invaded me.

The next morning, while I was cooking breakfast, he came in and put his arms around my waist. He kissed my shoulder like he did the last night, making me giggle as I turned my head and smiled at him. He smiled back, laying his chin on my shoulder as he watched me cook breakfast.

So that's how it started, when he started coming home late because of work I would slip into his bed and wait for him. He never kicked me out, he would just smile and lay next to me as he pulled me close. Soon winter passed, I had been away from you for a year now.

One day he brought some beers home, and a few to many made us get a bit....aroused. I don't remember much, but I know enough to know that it was a fantastic night. The next day, when we woke up, I freaked out and started yelling apologizes and started to stand, but he stopped me. He gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down, silencing me with a kiss. And that's how our relationship started.

A year later you died from drinking to much, but I did not morn. When I heard, I started to cry tears of joy. You are no longer hurt me anymore, you're in hell now. Now, as I lay this letter on your gravestone, I know I will never hear you voice, or see your face. But that's okay.

Because as I walk away with him, his arm around me and holding an open umbrella over us as the rain poured down, I have someone else to love and care for. I smile every time his thumb runs over the engagement ring on my finger, the one he had slipped on a day before you had died. I feel everything he feels about me when we make love, making me moan and scream in pleasure as his tongue runs along my sweaty and tan skin.

I love him, I love him so, so much. I love him more then I loved you, but now that I think about it, it was not love I felt for you. It was fear, and nothing else.

I do not feel that way with him, I know that I am safe and sound, no matter what happens. Yes, we have our fights, but we always find ourselves running back to each other, both of us crying.

But our lives are happy, and soon, officially be Mitchell Munching Brotato.

I wouldn't want it any other way.

My thoughts sometimes wonder to your grave that stands underneath the old oak tree, marked with your name. But then I think of Tyler, and he drives you away.

I do not visit the grave under the aging oak tree, not since I laid the letter I wrote on it.

I will never visit the lonely grave marked with the words Jerome ASF.


End file.
